


Anatomy Lesson

by Styfas



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Perhaps Out of Character Lady Silence but Perhaps Not, Rated M but light-hearted and not smut, Thoughts of masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25029586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Styfas/pseuds/Styfas
Summary: Things are going well with Goodsir and Lady Silence's session regarding anatomy terms for his dictionary - until the topic turns to the anatomy for an area below the waist.A man's waist.Goodsir's waist.(This fic scene takes place the day before the scene where Goodsir is getting the Inuktitut word(s) for foot/feet for his dictionary).
Relationships: Harry D. S. Goodsir & Lady Silence | Silna
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Anatomy Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking this is likely Out of Character for Lady Silence - and possibly Goodsir, as well. But on the other hand, we weren't there for all of the dictionary sessions. Who really knows how well they got to know each other on Erebus? She could be just teasing him for fun. 😁 😉 
> 
> Once again, I thank the Most Excellent [Drac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drac) for their help with certain things regarding this fic. (And thanks again for introducing me to The Terror! I had no idea this was happening on TV when it was actually happening; I was living under a rock, apparently - and finally found out about it in April(?) - or it might have been March). 
> 
> Although, this is technically not beta'd, and I celebrate that in the spirit of [vegetas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegetas)! :D

Mr. Goodsir sits cross-legged on the floor in a small cargo hold on Erebus. He holds a book in one hand, and a pencil in the other. Lady Silence sits opposite him, legs straight, and with her hands folded in her lap.

For over three weeks, Goodsir has been encouraging Lady Silence to provide Inuktitut words for a dictionary he is preparing. Generally, things have been going well, but there are some days when she is less willing to converse than others. Goodsir prides himself on being sensitive to her mood on any given day, and on his ability to use a gentler touch when required. He imagines it must be difficult for her to be stowed in the hold of a ship, away from her people. Yet, he is quite sure that, in spite of her situation, she accepts and trusts him. Deep in his heart he dares to hope that she may think of him as a friend.

Thus far, he has managed to learn of the land and the ice, native animals of her region, her tools and her clothing, among other things, as well as the Inuktitut words for various English food, tools, clothing, and so on. He has been recording the words in a small leather booklet. He plans to organize the information later, in alphabetical form within categories, in a larger volume.

Today’s subject is anatomy, and Mr. Goodsir is interested in recording the Inuktitut words for some of the external parts of the body. His plan is to go from head to toe. 

After they spend some time covering parts above the waist, Lady Silence pats her hand against her lower abdomen.

“The lower abdomen,” Goodsir says. “We already have the upper.”

She pats the area again and points to him.

He pats above his waist and says, “Upper,” then just below, “lower.” He pats again just below his wait. “Lower. Inuktitut?” He sets pencil against paper, awaiting her reply.

She shakes her head. Looking directly at Goodsir, she pats again. Much lower down. She points to him. 

“I – I don’t quite understand. Pelvis, perhaps?” He sets his book and pencil down on the floor, then spreads his hands across his lower abdomen, and to his hips. “Pelvis.” 

Lady Silence shakes her head more deliberately, then lowers it. The corners of her mouth turn upwards.

“Hmm. Not pelvis? Then, what else… ” He sees a pink bloom on her cheeks, and realization strikes him. “Oh!” 

At his exclamation, she raises her head, the pink deepening. 

Surely, she must be referring to a generalized term. Very well, then. Goodsir points to her area below the waist, then to his, and quickly back and forth again. He feels a burst of warmth in his chest that steadily creeps up his neck. Funny, getting the Inuktitut word for _breasts_ had been slightly awkward, but thankfully, the moment had passed quickly. This, however, is quite different – and could be far more awkward. 

But this is to be a dictionary, of course. Goodsir bears up in spite of his embarrassment. He clears his throat, then picks up his pencil and book, purposely avoiding her gaze. He flips through the pages and finds where he had left off. Composure somewhat restored, he dares to look at her again. “Genitals. Or…genitalia.” he says quietly. There, that wasn’t so difficult. “Inuktitut?” 

Lady Silence points at him, her dark eyes shining, her cheeks lifting. 

His eyes widen. Could she be alluding to a man’s privates?

Lady Silence opens both her hands and gestures forward to that area far below Goodsir’s waist. 

His cheeks are now afire. She does, indeed, allude to his privates. Well, not _his_ privates, although she was pointing to him. But a _man’s_ privates, at any rate.

Goodsir sets the pencil and book down and considers. He is in no way an artist – and even if he were, he doesn’t want to draw pictures for clarification. “Right. Uh…“ A bead of perspiration trickles down the back of his neck. He runs a finger under his collar. A short, reedy sigh follows, and then a nervous chuckle. He reminds himself that he’s an anatomist and a doctor, so there’s no need for embarrassment. If only he could stop feeling so warm, though…

“Pardon me, I - I truly don’t mean to offend. This, perhaps?” He holds both hands up, one stacked on top of the other, vertically, and with curled fingers, nearly closing them, hoping that he is somehow properly conveying an elongated form. He questions again with his eyes, hoping his gesture makes sense to her. 

“Or…?” He turns his hands and over, palms up, and cups them, side by side, underneath where he had made his first gesture. Good Lord, he can’t believe he’s doing this… 

Lady Silence smiles and imitates his first gesture. “Usuk.”

“Usuk. Yes. What we call…”

…but why be embarrassed? They’re both adults… 

…and yet…she’s a _lady_.

A lady who is now quizzically raising her eyebrows.

Goodsir checks over his shoulder to make sure no one is watching or listening. He scoots forward a few inches, checks over his shoulder again, and then leans toward her. “Penis,” he whispers. Good. He said it. All is well.

He sees Lady Silence parting her lips to take a breath. She brings her lips together in a plosive “P –“

"No, no, no, no!” Goodsir holds up both hands and speaks in a flurry of English. “Please, don’t say it. And don’t repeat that to anyone. I - I confess, I feel strange saying that word to a lady that I barely know.” And as for writing it, he wonders what Captain Crozier, Doctor MacDonald, or Mr. Blanky would think if they were to look inside his book and see _Penis – Usuk._ On the other hand, he hasn’t yet written the words down. Perhaps he won’t.

Lady Silence nods her head and leans back against the wall, still smiling. She points to the pencil and book that Goodsir had set down earlier. Holding up one hand to represent a book, and the other with finger pointed to represent a pencil, she mimes writing. “Usuk,” she says.

“Shhh!” Silly to shush her, though, since no one else on Erebus understands Inuktitut. As far as he knows. But he also knows that there are those aboard who understand select rude words and words for certain body parts in other languages, such as French, German, and Italian. Perhaps they’ve also learned certain choice words in Inuktitut? No, no. Why would they? Of course not. He hopes not…

…but what would it matter if anyone else knows that word? Everyone on the ship knows that he’s an anatomist and a surgeon – and indeed, some refer to him as Doctor – so no one who might be passing by should think anything of his saying the Inuktitut word for… 

…except that they would also know he is saying the word to Lady Silence, and that she would have been the one to teach him the word. Oh, dear… 

…but best not overthink this. Carry on, and in a professional manner.

He shimmies back, retrieves his book and pencil, and prepares to write. “Usuk,” he says aloud. However, he chooses not to say the English word aloud. Instead, he scribbles the Inuktitut word on the right side of his page, and its English equivalent beside it on the left, with a hyphen between. There. Done.

“Good,” he says, firmly closing his book and patting it several times, intending to send the message that they may be finished for this session. At this time, he is not inclined to repeat the process for the English word _testicles._ Besides, all this talk – or lack of talk – of sexual organs, combined with Lady Silence’s intense gazes and smiles, has caused a curious stirring below his waist that he thinks best to quell at this juncture. Especially since he is sitting on the floor, cross-legged. He hurriedly lowers the book, covering his crotch.

“Bravo!” He says it as much for himself as for her. 

Lady Silence points directly to his book/crotch. She smiles again in that subtle, close-mouthed way that Goodsir always finds wholly attractive, even in the present circumstance. “Harry usuk?” she asks. She holds both hands up, palms facing each other, and then slowly pulls them apart to indicate a length. A length that Goodsir judges to be ten or eleven inches.

 _Harry_. It’s the first time she's called him _Harry,_ and it’s delightful _..._ but she’s also asking about his… oh, dear… and erect, he must assume. It’s all too much. Still, a reply is needed, if only to stop this from going any further – but also because he feels obliged to let her know that she is entirely wrong in her conjecture. “Good Lord, no!” 

Lady Silence brings her hands closer together to indicate approximately four inches.

“Absolutely not!” Goodsir shakes his head. Too short; not that she should know any of this about him in the first place – but a man’s pride must be preserved, after all. 

Enough is enough; his _Penis – Usuk_ is now fully engorged, sweat is dripping down his chest and sides, and he feels certain that his entire face could now be a deep enough shade of red to rival that of a Goldner tin. He scrambles to his feet, keeping the book pressed against his crotch as best he can, and backs up toward the doorway. “Is there anyone on watch, please?” he calls out.

Lady Silence, still rosy-cheeked and smiling, points to his pencil which remains on the floor.

“Oh, yes, of course, thank you…” Goodsir has no recollection of how the pencil ended up there. He bends over quickly, picks it up, and shoves it into a pocket, but not before fumbling and dropping it a few times first. He offers his apologies for leaving so abruptly, says he has pressing matters to which he must attend, so thank you, goodbye, sleep well tonight, and see you tomorrow – (all of this in English only) – and scurries out the doorway, just as help arrives in the form of Corporal Paterson.

“Thank you, Corporal,” he says with a respectful nod, his back to Paterson. With that, Goodsir makes a sharp pivot and is on his way.

He speeds through the deck with panting breaths, searching for any secluded area he may find, while still keeping his book lowered to shield the significantly altered state of his privates should he unexpectedly encounter another crew member.

Upon finding a suitable corner, he faces it directly. Oh, the sensation he feels – and oh, the urge he has to bring that sensation to its most pleasurable finish. It could likely take only the friction of several vigorous up-and-down motions of the book, firmly pressed against his trousers. But he dares not risk being discovered. Better to calm himself, walk nonchalantly to his quarters, and settle the matter there.

He closes his eyes and concentrates, forcing himself to gradually slow down his breathing until he finds a stable, natural pace. Good. He slowly takes his book away to check... and yes, his _Penis – Usuk_ seems to have returned to normal. Excellent. He draws a hand across his forehead, wipes the resultant sweaty palm down the side of his thigh, and then tips his head back, releasing a long whoosh of breath. Now he may be on his way.

With relative calm, Goodsir turns away from the corner and heads to his quarters. Once there, he’ll have the privacy to indulge in self-gratification, should he still feel the urge.

But God help him if Lady Silence should attempt to give him the terms for female privates tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope I got the Inuktitut word right. I found it in several online dictionaries.
> 
> I saw an actual Goldner tin on the Building Terror Blogspot, and the color is almost a burgundy. They used a lighter shade of red in the AMC series. I wouldn't intend Goodsir to be turning a dark burgundy. :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
